


The Language of Birds

by kitaaa



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, True Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitaaa/pseuds/kitaaa
Summary: Taeyong and Jaehyun speak exclusively in painful glances, hesitant smiles, and feather-soft touches, because you don't have to say "I love you" to sayI love you.





	1. #1

_the way i sometimes feel_  
_invisible breath on my skin_  
_or hear the echo of laughter at night,_  
_old ghosts that haunt me from dawn to dusk._

 _how i stumble upon a photo of us one day,_  
_shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning like fools,_  
_shaking me to the core_  
_with sudden phantom nostalgia._

 _tell me how to hold a funeral_  
_for a warm body._  
_mourning the living_  
_is such hard work._

_\- 'our eulogy', excerpt #1 from the private journal of lee_ _ taeyong _

 

**-**

 

"Stop staring at him," Ten hisses without even looking up from his phone.

A sheepish glance. "Staring at who?"

"You know exactly who, Lee Taeyong. Don't make walk around the table and scratch your eyes out myself!"

If the threat had come from anyone but his five-foot-seven best friend, a boy who stops to pet stray cats on the way to school no matter how late he'll be and never forgets to smooch Taeyong on the cheek to say hello each morning, he might have actual reason to feel alarmed.

"I wasn't even," Taeyong mumbles meekly, though his face flushes.

Feeling the heat of an oncoming lecture, Taeyong tears his gaze away from the chestnut-haired figure at the centre of the cafeteria - always, always at the centre - and turns to face two pairs of disapproving glares. Ten opens his mouth to rant, but Doyoung beats him to the punch.

"This is getting insane," Doyoung groans, "When will you stop obsessing over Jaehyun? Or better yet, when will you accumulate enough balls to actually go up and  _talk_ to him?"

"...No."

"That wasn't even an answer!"

"I - he -" Taeyong fumbles for words, comes up empty-handed. "You know I can't."

"Why? Didn't you two used to be best friends? Don't you still live, like, literally right next to each other?"

Taeyong stays silent. He's not wrong, but he's not right either. Unlike Ten, who Taeyong befriended at the end of 8th grade, just as him and Jaehyun began drifting further and further apart, Doyoung has only gotten close to Taeyong this past year due to a shared music class.

Doyoung wouldn't understand, not yet, and he doesn't really feel like unearthing old, throbbing memories just right now. The story is a long and painful one, like a spider web still being spun despite its once-beautiful shape already having deformed beyond recognition. Besides, not even Ten knows everything. Taeyong's not sure he does, either.

"Hey, go easy," Ten pipes up, slightly protective. "There's a load of unresolved shit between them, you know that."

Doyoung softens, sighing. "Yeah, of course. I just can't stand seeing someone I love so hung up over a guy who's not worth even a strand of hair on their head."

"You're just being nice."

"It's true."

"You've got it the wrong way round. He's -"

"He's smart, he's kind, he's handsome, he's popular, etcetera, etcetera - yes, Tae, I've heard it a thousand times before, and I still think you're too good for him."

The worst part is, Taeyong senses that Doyoung genuinely means it. Shooting him a guilty smile, Taeyong reaches across the table and lays his hand on top of Doyoung's, squeezing as thanks. He doesn't remember how long he's been lost in his own thoughts or when the other two start chattering again, but Taeyong can't help the way his eyes drift over to the boy in question, reclining on the edge of the table with his chin resting on an upturned palm, talking to a girl Taeyong doesn't recognise.

It's not fair, Taeyong thinks bitterly. How dare he go from a short, spindly kid with braces to someone who makes sitting on a dirty school bench look like a king at home on his throne? At home, yet impossibly far out his reach. How dare he leave Taeyong so far behind?

His chest clenches. He wonders when he'll stop torturing himself with stupid fantasies that will never come true. As much as he would love for it to happen as easily as it does in the words he writes, reality won't paint itself into a sparkling mosaic of happiness where each character ends up getting exactly what their heart desires.

Now it's Taeyong himself who wants to stop looking. He tries to direct his attention elsewhere, _anywhere_ , but it's too late.

You've done it now, you idiot, he thinks. 

He's dreamed of this moment for ages and given up on it for even longer, miserably wishing that his childhood friend would suddenly remember he existed and come running back to his side, where they'd take on the world together again. Now that it's happening, it feels nothing like he imagined. There are no gold fireworks or molten eruptions of emotion taking over his entire being, only an ice-cold dread creeping through his veins, only the sensation of being suspended underwater for far too long.

His chest stops clenching; collapses altogether. 

For years upon years upon years Lee Taeyong has kept watching Jung Jaehyun from the shadows, terrified to get close to the glow of his magnificence.

For the first time in forever, Jung Jaehyun is surprisingly, frighteningly, finally watching back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty simple starter to an extremely complex fic, so I hope you can excuse me as I try to ease back into the flow of writing :)
> 
> Hope you guys don't cringe too much at the emo poetry I'm gonna be coming up with at the start of each chapter haha
> 
> I'll try and update by the end of this week again, in Jaehyun's point of view (don't worry, even though it may seem like it, this relationship is most definitely not one-sided)


	2. #2

_imagine_  
_if we had not let the typhoon take us,_  
_if we had held hands through the flood,_  
_if we had not sunk our own ship_  
_from all the stones we chose to swallow._

 _i would reverse the tides, if_  
_i could. beg the clouds_  
_to cease their weeping_  
_or at least allow us_  
_to anchor ourselves together first._

 _how lovely that would be, darling:_  
_the moon and the stars, refusing_  
_to be drowned._  
_me and you, floating_  
_in our small sea_  
_of silk blankets, the waves sighing_  
_as we listen to each other breathe_  
_in softest darkness._

_\- 'belly of the beast', excerpt #2 from the private journal of lee taeyong_

 

**-**

 

Some people possess such staggering beauty that they shouldn't be allowed to exist, Jaehyun thinks. He reflects on this philosophy particularly deeply as he stares into the all-consuming eyes of Lee Taeyong. Honestly, he's invested so much energy into resisting Taeyong's annoyingly magnetic presence for the last three years that he thought he'd be better prepared for this moment. Instead, Jaehyun finds himself dry-mouthed and unable to look away. He feels calm enough, but it's the kind of calm that comes from being frozen to stone from the feet up. He swears softly, and despite probably not even hearing what he said, the movement of his lips alone is enough to set Taeyong trembling.

"Wow," Jaehyun mutters. He didn't realise Taeyong had grown to dislike him to this extent - in fact, judging by how fast his cheeks are staining pink and his eyes shine with tears, Jaehyun wouldn't be surprised if he started crying on the spot. Taeyong lets out a small whimper, barely audible, but his voice alone is enough to have most of the room swivel in their seats to gape at him. Their gazes follow him as he half-walks, half-scampers out of the door, and both of his friends rush out soon after, their faces crinkled with concern.

"Jesus, he flew out of here fast," Yuta exclaims, clapping Jaehyun on the shoulder. "I always knew everyone hated you, but I didn't realise _everyone_ hated you."

Johnny nods in agreement. "What the fuck did you even do?"

Jaehyun huffs. "That's what I'd like to know, too. All I did was make eye contact with him for, like, ten seconds."

"Are you sure? He looked like he was about to burst into tears."

"What else could I have done to him from this distance? I didn't even _say_ anything."

Yuta considers this for a moment. "I told you your face was ugly enough to give people nightmares," he snickers. Without warning, Jaehyun shoves him off the bench and onto the floor, inciting loud laughter from the rest of the table. He gets back up, rubbing his hip and sticking up a middle finger as he plops back down on the seat. "And you question why Taeyong doesn't like you."

Johnny's brows furrow. "Wait, isn't this the same Taeyong that you used to be tight with before we started hanging out?"

Fuck Johnny Seo and his impeccable memory.

"Oh yeah, I remember! You two were inseparable in middle school, it was pretty cute," Yeri muses. Her smile is so bright that he can't get mad at her for fuelling such an awful topic.

"Damn, I kind of forgot he even existed," Lucas chimes in. Jaehyun wishes he could relate.

"Well, I for one am glad Jung caused a scene," Yuta announces, "it made me notice how hot Taeyong actually is. With a face like that, he could sleep with anyone he wanted. Including me."

"Yeah, I mean, I'm straight but he could still get it," Lucas grins.

"I'm a lesbian and he could _definitely_ get it," Irene agrees.

"You give such a bad name to bisexuals, Nakamoto," Johnny groans. "It's bad enough most people already think that just because we're attracted to both genders, we have twice the sex drive. We don't need you to reinforce the notion."

"Stop using big words just because you know I'm right." Yuta smirks.

"Actually, I'm not really into the vanilla, blushing virgin type."

"How would you know what your type is, smart-ass? The closest I've ever got to seeing you turned on is when the new book you ordered arrived early."

It's not long before the pair start full-on bickering, while the whole table erupts into excited conversation at the prospect of a new recruit. Jaehyun's jaw twitches, uncomfortable with Taeyong being discussed so superficially and uncomfortable with the realisation that he wouldn't even care if they were discussing anyone else in the same way. Hell, he'd probably join in.

"Seriously, though, I had no idea Taeyong was such a cutie! We need to start talking to him more."

"Maybe we should invite him to the party next weekend."

"I remember when Jung came back to my house after his first basketball game, he spat out the beer I gave him because he thought it was expired coke."

"Bro, that was so funny!"

"Oh my god, Jae, you were such a dork back then."

"He still is."

"Jae, why didn't you tell us about him?"

"Yeah, why don't you guys talk anymore?"

"Can you bring him around some time?"

"That's enough," Jaehyun barks out. His friends descend into surprised silence, and the muscle in his jaw twitches. He promised himself long ago he'd never lose his cool in front of others, _especially_ not over Lee Taeyong. "We just grew apart, okay? He wouldn't vibe with us anyway."

If Jaehyun wasn't so irritated, he'd almost be envious. He wonders how people like Taeyong command attention and draw in crowds so naturally, whilst every sentence and action of his has to be carefully orchestrated to achieve the desired outcome. He wonders if Taeyong even knows he can do this - but then again, it's Taeyong, so probably not.

After a beat, Yuta breaks out in a mischievous grin. "Are you sure he wouldn't vibe with _us_ , or just you, you cold bastard?"

"I've never been _more_ sure that no one could last over five minutes talking to you without also wanting to strangle you," Jaehyun grumbles, but the jagged edge to his voice has disappeared.

"Ouch, and here I was thinking one day I could finally melt the dead black heart of SM High's reigning ice king."

"You couldn't even get Irene to give you her number until you got down on your knees in the middle of the hallway and practically humiliated her into it," Yeri giggles.

"She's a  _lesbian!_ "

"The point still stands."

Previous flicker of tension now forgotten, everyone gets up and collects their things, talking over each other noisily as they exit the cafeteria. Jaehyun thanks Yuta internally for his amazing ability to dissolve any conflict with just a couple of jokes.

A large hand claps on his arm, and he swivels round to find Johnny leaning in close. "You okay, man? You kind of snapped for a second there."

"Uh, yeah. Just...reminded me of things I'd rather forget," Jaehyun finishes lamely.

Johnny nods understandingly, not prying any further. Jaehyun relishes a spark of appreciation for the fact that at least one of his friends comprehends the concept of personal privacy. "I still think you should talk to him, though. Taeyong, I mean."

Never mind, he takes that back immediately. "And in what fucking universe would that help even slightly?"

"Look, even the mention of his name pisses you off more than I've ever seen you bothered about anything. And he's had absolutely no problem staying under the radar for the past four years yet for whatever reason, as soon as he sees you, he explodes. You two did worse than just 'drift apart', so maybe this will give you a chance to fix your friendship."

"There's nothing _to_ fix," Jaehyun insists, and for once he's actually telling the truth. To suggest that their relationship could be mended would be implying that it had only cracked or split into several pieces - him and Taeyong are more like ash and dust, incinerated to invisible specks and scattered by the winds to every corner of the earth. Completely obliterated and utterly untraceable. It would be as pointless as trying to stitch air back together.

"I thought coach told you to save your stubbornness for the court," Johnny teases. "Fine. Let's assume the two of you really never can be friends again, though I highly doubt that and honestly just assume you've just got your head shoved up your angsty, brooding ass -"

"Damn, I think you've really persuaded me now."

"Oh, shut up. The least you can do is apologise to him."

"Now you want me to _apologise_?" Jaehyun scoffs. "You're unbelievable."

"You made him cry!"

"I didn't even do anything!"

"Jaehyun." Johnny stops in his tracks and grasps Jaehyun's shoulders, making the same stern expression that his dad does when he's about to lecture Jaehyun for talking back. The resemblance actually freaks him out a little. "It's bad enough that you made him cry - stop denying it, we all saw you - but now half the school probably thinks you're a giant dick too. The team is already on its last strike because of all the bullying incidents from those shithead seniors and if this gets reported too, we're off the entire season, and you know you and I both need to get noticed by those college scouts next month if we have any chance of making it big."

"That's a fucking reach. I'm willing to take the risk."

"You're right. The main reason you should apologise is because I know you want to talk to him."

"Just when I thought the shit coming out of your mouth couldn't get more delusional."

"If you leave things the way they are now, people are going to talk, and it's going to get exaggerated into some huge beef because it's you and people are obsessed with everything you do, and Taeyong will get dragged into the mess, which is less than fair."

"So? This school thrives on drama."

"Just say sorry and you can move on with your life, you at the top and him as a nobody again, just the way you want it. Who knows, you might even find some closure in the process."

Jaehyun winces at the blunt way he phrases it, but he has to admit Johnny's correct, for all the reasons listed above. Fuck Johnny Seo and his impeccable memory and his big smart-ass words and his shameless application of skills as debate club president to real life. "Fine."

"That's my boy," Johnny smiles, looking like Jaehyun's dad when he finally guilts him into apologising with a classic _I'm not angry, just disappointed_ speech.

 

**.**

 

That's how Jaehyun somehow finds himself lurking at the stop for bus 127 at the end of the day, waiting stiffly as the other students around him not-so-subtly speculate what business the great Jung Jaehyun could possibly have here. He curses Johnny every swear word under the sun for persuading him to go out of his way for such a stupidly unnecessary cause.

He's already gambling by assuming Taeyong still takes the same bus home, conveniently ignoring the fact that he still recalls the exact route back to said house too. Hopefully Taeyong's clumsiness from childhood hasn't been cured and he's too scared to learn to drive unlike the rest of the junior year. Examining the scuffed tips of his Nikes, Jaehyun prays he shows up. The sooner he gets this over with, the faster he can push away these useless thoughts and live freely again.

Just then, he hears a gasp close by. Raising his head, he spots a shocked Taeyong standing mere metres before him.

Gulping, Jaehyun steps forward. "I need to talk to you."

"He has a name."

Jaehyun blinks and glances to the right, not even realising Taeyong came with a friend. The short black-haired boy next to him crosses his arms challengingly, bristling all over. Despite the multiple silver piercings in each ear and chunky leather boots, Jaehyun doesn't feel particularly intimidated.

"Whatever. I need to talk to _Taeyong_."

The boy's glare only gets more fierce. "So talk."

"Not here. Alone."

"Um, I don't think so. If you've got something to say, you can say it to the both of us."

"Why does the fuck does it concern you?"

"Better question: what the fuck makes you think I'm going to leave Taeyong alone with the guy that made him cry?"

" _I didn't make hi-_ " Jaehyun sighs impatiently, running a hand through his hair. He mends his statement. "I didn't come here to argue with you. In fact, I didn't even want to come here. But my prick of a best friend convinced me to apologise for doing god-knows-what, so here I am."

"Apologise then."

Jaehyun stares at him. "I just did."

"No, you said you would apologise, so go ahead. The stage is yours," he mocks sweetly.

"Ten," Taeyong whispers, gripping his friend's arm as a signal to stop. Amidst this frustrating argument, he's been so quiet that Jaehyun almost forgot who he was even supposed to be apologising to. He looks over at Taeyong, but he's determinedly averting his gaze. For some unknown reason, a flame of irritation licks at Jaehyun.

"...I'm sorry," Jaehyun says slowly, pushing the words out one by one. "For-for whatever I did that upset you."

"Okay-" Taeyong starts, but Ten interrupts him. "No. Not good enough."

Jaehyun rolls his eyes so intensely he imagines they're touching the top of his skull. "Jesus, do you want me to bow down before the both of you and hand over my wallet while I'm at it?"

"Actually, that wouldn't be a bad idea-" Ten smirks, but this time it's Taeyong that cuts in, inhaling strongly before _finally_ turning to face Jaehyun. "It's fine, you don't have to apologise. You didn't even do anything wrong."

He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets so no one will see them clench into fists. He didn't expect Taeyong to be so indifferent. "That's what I've been saying."

"Bullshit."

Jaehyun tears his eyes away from the strands of Taeyong's hair that have been wafting in the breeze - it's pink now - to growl, "Excuse me?"

His response only seems to infuriate Ten further. "You fucking heard me. Fuck you, you don't get to strut over here acting like you own the place, then command Taeyong to talk to you after years of shutting him out as soon as you feel like it. You sure as hell don't get to make him feel like some shitty inconvenience you're being forced to deal with even though _you're_ the one supposed to be saying sorry to _him,_ and for a lot more than just what happened today, so you and your pathetic excuse of an apology can fuck off if all you've got to offer is more of those snide, stuck up remarks."

He's practically shouting now, going red and paying no attention to the many people listening in as he carries on. "I never understood why Taeyong continuously made excuses for you after the stories he told me, and I thought maybe I'd judged you too quickly since I'd never even spoken to you before, but now that I have, I understand _perfectly_  why Taeyong has beat himself up every minute of every day for the past three years thinking he's done something to push you away, because you probably _made_ him feel that way on purpose, and probably laughed about his suffering the whole time, too -"

"Ten, _please_ ," Taeyong pleads, eyes wide with mortification. It's only Taeyong's desperate expression that causes Ten to shut up, plunging the three of them into intensely awkward silence.

Jaehyun releases a shuddering breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. "Well, that was a lot to take in."

His mind reels violently, straining to make sense of the accusations that have just been hurled his way. Even through the swarm of confusing emotions, his heart can't help but throb at the sight of Taeyong. His shoulders are hunched in and his chest is rising and falling rapidly, making him seem impossibly small. 

He begins to open his mouth, but the bus pulls up in an instant. Suddenly pulled out their stunned trance, everyone scrambles to get on, and his brain doesn't re-animate quick enough to formulate words before Taeyong and Ten get engulfed by the rush too.

Ears ringing, he stands there and stares as the bus rolls past the stop and down the road, stares as it shrinks into the horizon and stares even when it vanishes altogether. Jaehyun thinks he probably would've stood there until the sky faded to black and then blue again if his phone didn't buzz with a text message that very moment.

 

**john-d**

**(15:48)**

yo bro have u done it yet??

 

**john-d**

**(15:48)**

i bet u were stressed out for nothinggg

 

**john-d**

**(15:49)**

mess is gone, taeyong dsnt hate u anymore, gonna get lit next weekend at mine, imma genius

 

**john-d**

**(15:49)**

told u everything would turn out fine ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of dialogue in this chapter, but I guess it was necessary to sort of give an idea as to what the characters are like + just set the scene in general since the last chapter was definitely rushed. 
> 
> in that sense, I surprised myself this time round with how rapidly things escalated, especially towards the end, but I'm enjoying the fast pace bc i wouldn't want to makes my readers sit through paragraphs of filler chapters w Jaehyun and Taeyong's relationship hardly progressing. that being said, I'm going to be sure to take my time fleshing out the entire plot and weaving lots of action into it!
> 
> I had so much fun writing Ten's character bc I'm literally just channelling my personality through him lool - without him, I feel like his poor introverted best friend would never leave the house or stand up for himself - fingers crossed Taeyong slowly grows more confident in his own skin.
> 
> I feel like I'm going to be repeating this a lot, but Jaehyun has his reasons for being kind of a huge asshole, and don't worry, he'll start to warm up sooooon :)


	3. #3

_you, with your indigo frown striking icicles_  
_through my soul, with your cobalt glare_  
_and grey-blue indifference eating me up_  
_like frostbite. you give me hypothermia_  
_just standing in your presence. you,_  
_chiselled from cold glinting sapphire_  
_these bitten fingernails could never hold_  
_without smearing,_ _the king of winter_  
_dangling me in his palm of his lapis lazuli hands_  
_without even commanding it. how you freeze_  
_me with terror._

  
_even from a distance, azure_  
_swallows the horizon. cerulean_  
_sets my knees shaking._

_\- 'and it only makes me love you more', excerpt #3 from the private journal of lee taeyong_

 

**-**

 

"He hates me," Taeyong moans as he buries his face in Ten's chest.

"He does _not_ hate you. Stop being ridiculous," Ten scolds. He strokes Taeyong's head absentmindedly whilst clicking away on his laptop.

" _Ten_ , pay attention to me," Taeyong wails, "you're supposed to be consoling me after what was possibly one of the top three most traumatic encounters of my life."

"I've been sleeping over every night for the past week just to console you. Some of us do have homework to hand in, you know."

"Mm-mmf- _mmmfffff_." Taeyong nuzzles into the fluffy fabric of Ten's jumper even further.

"And you call _me_ the drama queen of the group," he grumbles, but takes out his earphones nevertheless. "Guess editing my choreography assignment will have to wait."

"Technically, you deserve to be pestered," Taeyong argues, "he probably hates me even more now that you screamed at him in front of everybody."

"He had it coming."

"Now, instead of thinking, _who's Taeyong? I don't think I've ever heard of him, but he sounds like a loser,_ he's going to be thinking, _oh look, there's Taeyong, the loser with the rude, psychopathic friend who verbally assaulted me for fifteen minutes straight._ "

"At least now he knows you exist, just like you've always wanted. You should be thanking me."

With a loud groan, Taeyong untangles himself from Ten, flinging himself on the bed beside him. They maintain eye contact as Taeyong takes a nervous breath, lips quivering. Genuine worry replaces the fond exasperation on Ten's face in anticipation of what Taeyong is about to say...

"He hates me."

"Oh, for god's sake."

Ten flicks Taeyong on the forehead viciously, eliciting a cry of protest. "If he hated you, he wouldn't have had to wipe the drool off his chin every time you talked before replying to me."

"Please, the look on his face when he saw me was the opposite of lovesick."

"That's because the idiot is six feet deep in denial."

"Stop trying to make me feel better."

"I thought you wanted me to console you!"

"Yes, but not feed me lies and false hope."

"You shouldn't even be hoping in the first place! He's an arrogant, entitled jerk who throws a tantrum as soon as things don't go exactly his way."

Taeyong sits up, shocked by his harsh description of Jaehyun. He considers his friend for a second, unable to refute Ten's claim. "...Did you notice how he kept angrily biting his lip though? Ugh, he's so hot when he's ma-"

Taeyong doesn't get to finish his sentence as a pillow is promptly catapulted in his face.

 

**.**

 

  **ty-track ty-track**

**(7:59)**

he hates me

 

**tennie**

**(8:02)**

if u say that one more time im gonna shred all ur precious snsd albums

 

**tennie**

**(8:03)**

arent u supposed to be in class?

 

**ty- track ty-track**

**(8:03)**

yes but its english and jaehyun n all his douchey friends will be there n im too scared to go in

 

**tennie**

**(8:04)**

so where are u now?

 

**ty-track ty-track**

**(8:04)**

definitely not having a panic attack in the toilets thats 4 sure

 

**tennie**

**(8:09)**

sry teacher nearly caught me texting under the desk

 

**tennie**

**(8:09)**

u useless fucking gay

 

**tennie**

**(8:09)**

if u don't show up ur only gonna give them the idea that they're in the right

 

**ty-track ty-track**

**(8:10)**

um thats cos they are

 

**tennie**

**(8:11)**

GO TO CLASS COWARD

 

**tennie**

**(8:11)**

OR ELSE U CAN PERSONALLY WITNESS THE MURDER OF TAE TI SEO

 

**ty-track ty-track**

**(8:11)**

FINE I HATE U

_read  8:12_

 

Approximately five minutes of pure panic later, Taeyong scurries into his English classroom, trying to get to his usual seat as fast and as unnoticed as possible. On a regular day, his plan for escape probably would have worked. He would've been able to slip past everyone, invisible as a ghost. Unfortunately, it seems he'll never be blessed with the power of transparency again, not after Ten's outburst has landed him right into the claws of the rumour mill.

He doesn't even make it past the teacher's desk before a sharp "Mister Lee!" forces him to spin on his heel and address the owner of the steely voice.

"Glad you could finally make it," Mrs. Hong greets sarcastically.

"Sorry," he mumbles, acutely aware of the fact that the entire class' attention is laser-focused on him. What was he even thinking? There's no way someone can simply blend back into the crowd after they become associated with Jung Jaehyun.

Thankfully, Mrs. Hong's feeling lenient. "Never mind. This is the first time you've been late to lesson, so I'll let you off with a warning."

Taeyong mutters his gratitude and makes to slink back to his seat when the teacher stops him again. "Woah, now don't go racing off too quick. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I've already told the class that for the next month, you'll all be splitting off into groups of four to work on various sections in the romantic poetry anthology we've been studying."

Anxiety begins to blossom at the base of his stomach. Neither Ten nor Doyoung are in this class, and he's not sure he's so much as borrowed a pencil from anyone else in the room. Taeyong absolutely despises group projects; they only remind him that much more how lonely he is. Hopefully someone will take pity on him and invite him to join their group (unlikely), or perhaps he can convince the teacher to let him work on his own if he insists he doesn't mind doing four times as much work (humiliating, but his safest bet).

Instead, Mrs. Hong comes up with a third option that's far deadlier than anything Taeyong could create himself. "Since you arrived late, I'm afraid you won't have much choice in picking who you want to work with. You'll have to go with the only trio in the class."

Instantly, the class flares up with thrilled whispers. Confused, Taeyong turns to see where the teacher's finger is pointing to, and feels his heart sink rollercoaster-style. With Taeyong's luck, who else would be staring back but  Johnny, Yuta, and Jaehyun himself? - the former two with amused interest, and the latter with thinly-veiled disdain.

It's official. The world is working against him.

"Silence!" Mrs. Hong demands. "Now, I know you boys like to be exclusive, but I expect equal effort and cooperation given between all of you, understood?"

Johnny and Yuta nod, while Jaehyun doesn't shift a fraction. 

"Good. Taeyong, go take your seat." She nudges him towards the only free chair on their cramped desk - and of course, _of course_ it would be directly facing the one Jaehyun is currently occupying.

"Um -" he starts, but the teacher sharply interrupts. "Don't keep us waiting, we have a lot to be getting on with."

Cheeks burning, he scurries over, plopping himself down awkwardly with his gaze concentrating on the floor. The surrounding silence, along with the sensation of being watched with curious intent, couldn't be more unbearable.

"My God, you guys really don't want to work this morning, do you?" Mrs. Hong chides, clapping her hands together briskly. "Read, discuss, annotate! Get to it!"

Like a bunch of startled cattle, the noise of chatter bubbles up immediately, washing over the quiet. Taeyong's own table remains tense as ever.

"Aw, c'mon, we don't bite," a voice sing-songs to his left, and Taeyong's neck snaps up. Nakamoto Yuta grins back at him, strangely gleeful. Taeyong would strongly disagree with his comment; right now he feels like he's landed in the heart of the lion's den.

"I don't think you're doing a very good job of convincing him," Johnny laughs on the other side of the square table. His pushes his silver-rimmed circle glasses up his nose elegantly and smiles. "Ignore Nakamoto. He's just messing with you. Should we just get started? I have a feeling Jaehyun's gonna burst into flames if we keep him waiting; he's always cranky during first period."

Subconsciously, Taeyong's eyes flit over to Johnny's right, meeting Jaehyun's for a jarring second before he looks away lightning-fast. He hopes his ears aren't as red-hot as they feel.

Jaehyun scoffs, a small _tch_  sound escaping his mouth. "Yeah, the sooner we finish, the faster little Taeyong can run away, since he clearly enjoys our company as much we're enjoying his."

"B-but I don't dislike your company..." Taeyong mumbles, confused. A cottony fog of hurt and exhilaration swirls inside him. The sarcasm dripping from Jaehyun's voice stings; so it's obvious that he _does_ hate Taeyong. But he can't help how his heart still pathetically stutters at hearing Jaehyun say his name after so, so long - even if he's just being condescending.

If Ten was here right now, Taeyong doesn't know whether he'd be howling with laughter at the irony of the situation or fuming at how complacent Taeyong's acting.

"Ignore Jung, too," Johnny reassures calmly. "He's a grumpy bastard, but you get used to it after a while."

 _He was never grumpy back when I knew him,_ Taeyong wants to protest, but he knows how stupid the words would sound coming from his mouth. It's not _back when_  anymore. Jaehyun is teen royalty now, and Taeyong is nobody.

"Anyway, Mrs. Hong is glaring daggers at us so we should probably start the task. I'll read it out loud first -"

"No, Taeyong should do it," Yuta cuts in. 

Taeyong's eyebrows raise. "What?" Johnny asks.

"He never lets out a peep. I want to hear his voice," Yuta presses with insistence. He looks positively wolfish as he slides the sheet of paper over to Taeyong. "Go on."

He looks over to Johnny haplessly, hoping the least frightening of the three will object and rescue him, but he's scanning the text disinterestedly. "Go ahead, Taeyong."

Taeyong peers down at the paper before him. The poem is  _Winter Swans,_ one of his absolute favourites. He's read it to himself (and his friends) so many times he could normally recite it in a single breath, but in front of Jaehyun and his intimidating posse, he just prays his voice doesn't crack with a huge honk, or worse - he collapses into tears. Again.

Biting his lip, he begins with little more than a whisper:

 _"The clouds had given their all -_  
_two days of rain, and then a break_  
_in which we walked,_

 _the waterlogged earth_  
_gulping for breath at our feet_  
_as we skirted the lake, silent and apart,_

 _until the swans came and stopped us_  
_in a show of tipping in unison._  
_As if rolling weights down their bodies to their heads_

 _they halved themselves in the dark water,_  
_icebergs of white feather, paused before returning again_  
_like boats righting in rough weather._

 _'They mate for life', you said as they left,_  
_porcelain over the stilling water. I didn't reply_  
_but as we moved on through the afternoon light,_

 _slow-stepping in the lake's shingle and sand,_  
_I noticed our hands, that had, somehow,_  
_swum the distance between us_

 _and folded, one over the other,_  
_like a pair of wings settling after flight."_

A pause lingers. The other three glance at each other mysteriously, and Taeyong's body shrinks into itself, sure he must've missed out a line or pronounced a word wrong or _something_. 

"Wow, you're like, really good at reading," Yuta eventually remarks, disbelieving. 

"Mm, very lyrical," Johnny hums, the corner of his lips quirking. 

"I seriously don't know why you don't speak more often. You have a nice voice."

"Yeah, especially since some people who have awful, grating voices speak way more often than most of us would prefer."

"Shut up, dickhead." 

Oh. That's not what Taeyong was expecting in the slightest. Ten and Doyoung always praised his 'musical' voice, whatever that meant, but Taeyong had assumed they were just trying to raise his ground-level self-confidence like the good friends they are. "Um, thanks." He peeks up at them shyly, and receives two easy grins. A tiny bud of pride unfurls inside of him, but he still doesn't dare check Jaehyun's expression. That would take another decade's worth of courage he doesn't possess. Taeyong's almost certain he's scowling, anyway.

Yuta sags, leaning back over his chair recklessly. He swings back and forth on the back legs so wildly that Taeyong's surprised he doesn't crash backwards onto the floor. "What's so profound about this poem? Just seems like a boring ass commentary about some birds swimming to me."

"Yeah, seems like it, but poetry is never straightforward. It definitely has an deep, obscure message behind it or whatever, right?" Johnny ponders. "Damn, I'm usually pretty good at English, but this part escapes me."

"Well, if it does, I can't figure it out," Yuta sighs in defeat. He suddenly perks up in a cartoonish 'Eureka!' moment. "Yo, wait, it says _mate for life_  right? Couldn't _mate_ be like, some kind of euphemism for how the guy wants to bang?"

"Wow, I'm impressed," Johnny says, and Yuta throws up a peace sign with exaggerated cockiness. "That you know what euphemism means and was able to correctly apply it in a sentence."

Yuta kicks Johnny in the shin underneath the desk, the wood vibrating under Taeyong's palms. "Bro, think about it though. All poets are actually repressed sex freaks. But they're from like, the 19th century so they had to mask their horny fantasies with normal fancy words. Tell me I'm wrong."

Taeyong blanches, nearly falling over himself at the absurd conspiracy theory. Surely Johnny, at least, would point out his error in judgement.

"...Okay, I won't lie, you might be onto something here."

Taeyong has to physically stop himself from smacking himself on the forehead and sliding out of his seat in despair.

"Right? And _gulping for breath_? Tell me that's not exactly what it sounds like," Yuta carries on excitedly. "Jung? Thoughts?"

In Taeyong's periphery, Jaehyun shrugs. "Could be legit." Now even _Jaehyun_ was agreeing? 

"It's about reconciliation," Taeyong blurts out, unable to stand his beloved poem being so grossly misinterpreted any longer. 

"Huh?" Yuta grunts, taken aback by his bold outburst.

Blushing, Taeyong fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie and explains in a softer tone, "The writer, Owen Sheers, isn't from the Victorian era. He's actually a contemporary poet, and he's still alive today. _Winter Swans_ is about two lovers who have had a terrible rift rip open between them; that's what the _two days of rain_ and the _break_ means. The earth is _gulping for breath_ to symbolise the desperation of both to reconcile and make things work but the inability of either to express that. Then they see the swans _halving_ _themselves_ before coming back together. _Half_ implies they come as a pair, and don't feel complete without each other - as does the comment about them _mating for life_. Then, when he describes their _hands folded like a pair of wings_ , it shows how the two lovers have also made up with each other quietly after walking _silent and apart._ The swans are an extended metaphor that reflects their own dynamic; the poem is about two people who are so deeply in love with one another that even though they've grown apart, they -"

He hesitates, a blush of shame consuming him. Here he is, basically spilling his guts to Jaehyun how he feels about their relationship, or lack thereof, through an embarrassingly nerdy literary analysis. "- they'll always find their way back to each other, because they know they're soulmates and meant for each other without even having to say it. Or...something like that. Sorry, I'm rambling." His throat croaks as he finishes lamely. 

Yuta stares at him in awe. "No, you explained that perfectly. How did you even work all that out in literally five minutes?" 

"Yeah, that makes total sense," Johnny smiles, nudging Jaehyun with his elbow. "He's a certified genius, huh, Jung?"

Taeyong braces himself for Jaehyun to retort back with something dismissive, eyes flickering to him anxiously. "Yeah," Jaehyun says instead, pinning Taeyong with an indecipherable look. 

"It's nothing. I've come across the text before, that's why." 

"Nah, your skills are so impressive even Jaehyun can admit it," Johnny praises. Taeyong smiles genuinely, pleased at the acknowledgement.

The lesson progresses far more smoothly after that. The group works their way through the poem carefully, dissecting each stanza with precision and scribbling down notes, thanks to Taeyong's guidance. They even have time left over to move onto the next page and get a detailed discussion going. When the bell finally screeches the end of class, they startle, having been immersed in the work.

"Woah, it's over already? I swear English has never gone so fast," Yuta exclaims, "I might have even... _enjoyed_ this lesson." He cringes, as though the confession is an offense to his very core. 

"I heard that, Mr. Nakamoto," Mrs. Hong approaches sternly, though she can't hide her beaming. "I'm ecstatic that you boys ploughed through your assignment today. Keep up the effort."

"It's all thanks to Taeyong," Johnny tells her, slinging an arm around Taeyong and making him jump at the contact.

"Yeah we might get actually pass this semester with him as our secret weapon," Yuta laughs, as Mrs. Hong rolls her eyes, tutting.

"Sorry, Taeyong, looks like they've taken a liking to you. Well, you're clearly a good influence, so I hope you don't mind if I continue to stick you with this troubling bunch."

"Hey, Mrs. Hong, that's just mean."

"Okay," Taeyong says, feeling oddly warm.

"Bye, Taeyong. Glad we got to know you," Yuta grins, ruffling his hair with an unexpectedly familiar touch as he leaves.

"See you round," Johnny greets over his shoulder.

Taeyong can't even muster a response, stunned by what just happened. Did he really just manage to survive an entire hour, unscathed, with _the_  ruthless Jung Jaehyun and his equally ruthless friends? And even more bewilderingly, had he managed to somehow make a positive impression on them? Still in the midst of shock, he finds himself waving absentmindedly to Jaehyun as he's making his way out. "Bye."

Jaehyun halts, and they catch each other's gaze again. Taeyong's hand flops down swiftly and fists at the hem of his shirt, having just realised what he's done. For a moment, he thinks Jaehyun might just ignore him utterly. He squirms uncomfortably, heart pounding with the force and fire of a rocket engine.

"Bye," Jaehyun says back. His typically chocolate-brown eyes are very dark, and very intense.

Taeyong gapes at Jaehyun's retreating back for perhaps an eternity until his reverie shatters when Mrs. Hong calls, "Aren't you going to your next class, dear?"

He apologises and scampers out in a daze, moving at a snail's pace although he's being shoved from every angle by masses of impatient students charging past. He reaches into his pocket, fishes out his phone and slowly types.

**ty-track ty-track**

**(9:08)**

he might hate me 1% less


End file.
